


Borrowed Warmth

by DisguisedasInnocent



Series: Ways to Say 'I love you' [73]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 12:53:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15340278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisguisedasInnocent/pseuds/DisguisedasInnocent
Summary: When she left—ran away—Beauregard didn't particularly think about the weather, or the changing of the seasons. It turns out that a Monk's robes don't cut it when a cold winter wind blows.





	Borrowed Warmth

Yasha sat stone-statue still in the shadows at the edge of the Mighty Nein's campsite. The dark-haired woman's mismatched scanned the tree-lined approach attentively whilst her sensitive Celestial ears listened to the sounds of the night-time wildlife—the soft hoot of an owl in the distance, and the fearful bleat of a mouse in the underbrush. A soft breeze danced through the leaves overhead and led the tree branches through a slow dance before catching the loose strands of silver tipped black hair that lay around Yasha's shoulders.

“Holy fuck—” A sharp voice cut through the heavy silence and prompted Yasha to turn her head toward her watch partner. “That's cold.” 

“Aye.” The Xhorhasian woman murmured. “It is.”

“I knew I should have listened to Fjord.” Beau muttered half under her breath as she hunched her shoulders against the cold wisps of wind. 

“Are you cold Beauregard?” Yasha queried with a slow lift of one eyebrow.

“No!” Beau protested quickly, and Yasha watched the way that she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “That'd be silly... Of course, I'm not cold.”

“Hmm.” Yasha murmured and turned her head back to watch the treeline whilst she kept Beau in her peripheral vision.

The Monk kept her shoulders straight for a handful of minutes as she watched Yasha's profile. Then, another gust of wind blew through the trees and Beau's shoulders hunched inward sharply and she drew her legs up toward her chest. “It isn't even Winter yet...” The Monk cursed quietly.

“Do you not have a coat Beauregard?” Yasha asked in a quiet voice that almost became lost in the music of the wind blowing through the trees.

“I...” Beau paused and bit the inside of her cheek as a fierce blush bloomed on her cheeks. “No, I'm good though! I have my robes, they're pretty warm.”

“Here.” Yasha's nimble fingers unwound the tie of her shawl, and she dragged the thick fur off her shoulders. “Take mine. I do not need it.”

“Ya...” Yasha's name died on Beau's tongue when the Barbarian woman draped her thick fur shawl around Beau's shoulders. “You don't...”

“You need it more than I do.” Yasha replied softly as she met Beau's eyes and offered the other woman a small smile.

Beau's eyes flickered momentarily to the tiny feathers—slightly deformed stubby shafts with wisps of down—bared by Yasha's removal of her shawl. “Thank you.” Beau murmured softly as she curled her fingers around the edges of the shawl to draw it tighter around her body.


End file.
